Forever Is Not Long At All
by JustOldLights
Summary: Caroline is a dreamy teenager trapped in a boring life, Klaus is the feared king of the supernatural world. When Elena is accidentally banished to the vampire kingdom, Caroline's only chance to rescue her is to beat the king at his own game, or risk losing herself forever. Inspired by the movie Labyrinth; a story of friendship, love, temptation – and evil being incredibly sexy.
1. The Black Candle

**Hya, y'all - to clear things up, ****this is AU, set in a world where supernatural exists and regular people know it – and **no** previous knowledge of ****_Labyrinth_**** is required to enjoy this, though I seriously hope you've seen it because it's pure awesomeness.  
Title from David Bowie – ****_duh_****.**

* * *

The Black Candle

* * *

_there's such a sad love, deep in your eyes.  
a kind of pale jewel open and closed  
within your eyes._

* * *

"Now we can walk, now we can run, now we can stay all day in the sun," Caroline sang along with the TV, ignoring the eye-rolls she was currently getting from her friends. "Just you and me, and I can be – part of your world!"

She concluded the song with a goofy grin that maybe – just _maybe_ – would be more in place on a young girl's face rather than a high school senior, but she really, really couldn't help it.

"What?" Caroline asked. "I just love this movie."

"You know, I think I can see that." Bonnie laughed. "Very, very mature."

Caroline just stuck her tongue out at her. "Just because your favorite princess is a stick-wielding Chinese chick, that doesn't make _you _mature."

Girls Night was in full swing at the Gilbert house, and the first part of the night had been spent watching movies – _Dirty Dancing_, one of Elena's all-time favorites, and Caroline's childhood obsession, _The Little Mermaid_.

"Well, Bonnie's kind of right," Elena cut in. "I mean, Mulan's so much more badass. I mean, she saves China – the little mermaid is cute and all, but all she does is leave her life because of a guy."

Of course Elena would say that. Since her breakup with Matt Donovan eight months earlier, she'd been all about showing how much she didn't need a man – especially after Matt had tentatively asked Caroline out a couple of times. Caroline, for her part, was slightly intimidated by New Elena's new attitude, if not a little jealous, but that didn't meant that Elena could get away with _completely misunderstanding_ the meaning of the best Disney movie ever.

"She doesn't _leave her life because of a guy_," Caroline objected. "She wants to change her life, see the world, she would have left anyway – falling for Eric is just a bonus, because he's the perfect symbol of the world she wishes she could live in. He's everything she's ever wanted."

Caroline finished her heartfelt speech to her friends' stunned silence, and immediately felt herself flush in embarrassment. _Oversharing much, Caroline?_ she reprimanded herself, silently.

"Wow," Bonnie said, after a while. "You really, really like that movie, don't you?"

"Oh please," Caroline began, diffusing the situation with all of her Miss Mystic chattering skills. "Okay, I get intense, but that's nothing compared to how intense _Elena_ gets whenever we're watching a James Franco movie – even if it's crap."

"James Franco is _not_ crap," Elena said, like she always did.

"Of course, 'Lena," Bonnie jumped in. "He's hot, we get it. He's just a crappy actor."

"That's not true –"

"Drink?" Caroline cut in, taking a brand new bottle of tequila out from her overnight bag. "I think it's about time we start on the shots part of the evening."

"_Caroline_," Elena hissed. "My _parents_ are at home."

It was Caroline's turn to laugh. "What, like they have no idea we drink? They went to high school too, you know, aren't that old. Besides, they're not going to come in."

And even if they did, they wouldn't get angry. Elena was the perfect daughter compared to her brother, and Caroline had heard enough tales of Jenna's high school days to know that her friend was definitely the tamest one in the Gilbert-Sommers household.

"Okay," Elena huffed. "But if we're busted, I'll blame you."

"Cheers!"

A bottle later, the three girls were all positively giddy – especially Elena, who every once in a while would erupt into a giggling fit for no particular reason. It was that point in the night were they would start exchanging gossip and trying out spells from Bonnie's family grimoire. Sheila Bennett's grimoire was seriously awesome, much thicker and older than Caroline's, and full of spells most people didn't even know existed.

That was, Caroline had learned years before, because Bonnie's Grams was a witch.

An real witch, in fact, not just a simple human following spell instructions like one would a recipe in a cooking book. Sheila – and Bonnie's mother, and _Bonnie herself_ – was an actual witch, the kind who could call on spirits for help, and master even the most difficult kind of spell. It was Bonnie's greatest secret, and the only reason the Elena knew was because years ago Bonnie's mom had helped out the Gilberts with a vampire problem –and the only reason Caroline knew was because he'd noticed something was wrong, and asked and pestered – and okay, maybe even _stalked_ – Bonnie until she'd found out.

Bonnie had immediately sworn her to secrecy, of course, and Caroline had been perfectly ready to oblige. Witches were more human than the other supernatural, often preferring to hide their powers and live normal lives, but there were those who still thought all supernatural creatures shouldn't mix with humans. Harming a witch for no reason but her power was a serious crime – as was harming a vampire or a werewolf, no one wanted to provoke the King into a war – but if a witch was revealed, their family would suffer strange accidents more often than not. And the Bennetts certainly didn't deserve that.

"You know what?" Elena asked, suddenly. "I think we should all take funny pictures."

"That's so not happening, 'Lena," Bonnie said. "I take horrible pictures when I'm drunk."

"Oh, don't be boring. Caroline, what do you say?"

"Sure thing," Caroline smiled, amused, and Elena gave her a satisfied grin.

"Sorry Bon, majority rules," she paused, looking around the room. "Hey, have you guys seen my phone?"

Caroline looked around the room. The bed was a mess of pillows and blankets, but there was no sign of Elena's phone anywhere. "Maybe you left it downstairs in the kitchen?" Elena turned at that, looking at Caroline pointedly.

"Nope," Caroline groaned. "Not happening."

"Well, _I_ am not going downstairs all tipsy," Elena said. "And it was your idea, _you_ corrupter of young innocent girls."

"All right," she conceded. "_But_ I get to borrow your new blue flats sometimes next week."

There was no one downstairs, thankfully, the Gilberts already gone to sleep. Caroline felt a wave of relief, picturing just how awkward it would have been to meet Miranda Gilbert by the kitchen sink when she could barely walk straight.

She went to the fridge first, looking for some water or maybe dinner leftovers to carry upstairs to the others – no Girl's Night was complete without snacks – before looking around, finally seeing Elena's phone laying forgotten on the kitchen counter. As she watched, the screen lighted up, showing a message from a number she knew well. _Can we talk tomorrow?_ it said. Under Caroline's incredulous gaze, it buzzed again, signaling yet another text – _It's important. Please_. And then, the last straw. _I miss you_.

"Right," Caroline whispered to herself. "Wonderful." _Of-fucking-course_.

When she got back to the room, Bonnie and Elena were sitting on the bed – doing some sort of spell, by the look of it.

"Oh thank you Care –" Elena started to say, before noticing her face. "Is everything alright?" she asked. "You look…"

_Like I'm about to cry? _Whatever. "It's nothing," Caroline said, giving her a bright smile. "I just remembered, I have to leave."

Bonnie raised her eyebrows. "What, now? It's after curfew, Caroline!"

"Yeah, well, I really have to leave." She took her bag from the floor, surveying the room for anything she might have missed. Her jacket, a small bottle of nail-polish, the sleeping shorts she still hadn't changed into, the _Little Mermaid_ DVD.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow, okay?" she told Elena and Bonnie, who were staring at her with a shocked look on their faces.

"Caroline…"

But she was already out of the door.

* * *

_no one can blame you for walking away  
too much rejection, no love injection  
don't tell me truth hurts, little girl  
'cause it hurts like hell_

* * *

Caroline walked swiftly through the streets, trying to keep calm. She was hurt, an angry, and sad – but, more than anything, she was nervous. After all, she'd never been out so late before, and a school night even.

The moon was high in the sky, full and bright, and the streets were desert – while curfew was only mandatory for those under the age of twenty one, most adults preferred staying indoors anyways, only going out during weekends, hoping to find safety in numbers. In the big cities it was different, Caroline knew, and even in other towns less paranoid than hers – but, in Mystic Falls, the City Council members all fancied themselves some sort of vampire hunters, and people took their safety seriously.

It was a good thing, Caroline told herself, trying to convince her heart to slow down. She didn't regret leaving – she had to do this, before she slept on it and changed her mind – and the danger of supernatural attacks was nowhere as frequent as most people liked to think – she had seen the numbers, thank-you-very-much – but the risk of getting caught wandering the streets was very real. She could only imagine what her mother would say – _or not_.

She reached the run-down Donovan house, noticing the light inside – not that it mattered. She would have knocked anyways.

"Matt," she called out, pounding on the door. "Are you there?"

"Caroline?" he asked, eyes widened in surprise. "What are you doing here? It's after curfew, what if you mother –"

"Matt," she told him. "This is _so_ not the point."

He frowned at her words. "What is it... did anything happen? Do you want to come in?"

Any other day, she would have gladly jumped to the occasion. Today, however, she surprised herself by shaking her head – and really meaning it. "No, thanks." She took a breath. "Matt… just how longer were you going to string me along?"

"What?" he looked genuinely surprised. And he probably was. Matthew Donovan, the nicest buy Caroline had ever met, didn't have a malicious bone in his body. She could easily believe that he hadn't meant to hurt her, but still… there was just so much one girl could take.

"Caroline," he repeated. "What are you talking about?"

"What I'm talking about," Caroline began, "is that I can't keep being your placeholder girlfriend while you keep waiting for Elena to come back to you."

She turned on her back and started to walk away before he could reply, ignoring his voice calling after her. Caroline made a show of walking slowly, with regular steps, knowing that Matt would never follow her – not only he was too much of a good boy, but he could never afford the luxury of getting caught and having to pay the fine.

He didn't run after her, didn't ask her to come back, and Caroline pretended it didn't sting.

Once she was far enough, she started running, and didn't stop until she saw the familiar porch of her house. Her mother wasn't in, thankfully, so Caroline ran all the way to her bedroom, throwing herself on the bed and telling herself that she'd done the right thing.

_It doesn't matter,_ she thought to herself._ You're better off alone anyways_. After all, only two hours ago she had been thinking that Elena had done the right thing with her new no-boyfriend attitude.

Then again, she'd always had Matt wrapped around her little finger, had she?

The traitorous thought made its way through Caroline's mind, slyly. Elena, Elena, Elena. Did jealousy made her petty? Maybe. But she'd just found out that the best thing – the only good thing in her life, the only thing that was so completely hers – it hadn't been hers at all.

She was so fucking _tired_ of it.

"I wish that Elena –" she started muttering to herself, then stopped. She wished that Elena what? Caroline liked Elena – a great deal more than Elena liked Caroline herself, she suspected – and she could never wish her harm. Didn't want to. Caroline didn't even wish that Elena was never born, or some similar sappy thing – Elena was nice, and good, and everyone liked her. The world was a better place with Elena in it, Caroline was firmly sure of that fact, everybody's lives were better by having Elena in them – except, obviously, for Caroline's.

If only Elena _weren't there_.

Her gaze fell on the window. It was open – vampire needed invitations, everyone knew it, and wolves couldn't climb, so Liz Forbes had never seen a reason for putting bars in front of the window like other people did – and she could see the sky outside, and the bright pale moon, like a diamond laid on a velvet curtain. It was beautiful.

_A full moon_, she realized. Full moon meant power, even Caroline knew this. Real witches, those who used their magic for more the simple protective spells Caroline had been taught in school, liked to harvest the power of the full moon, using it for their most powerful spells. Werewolves turned into beasts when the moon was full, and even vampire were drawn to it – a night like this was the stuff children tales were made of.

But most tales had a hint of truth in them.

_If you burn holly on a black candle during a full moon_, Caroline remembered, Bonnie's voice whispering in her ear, _and make a wish, the King will hear you and give you what you want_.

Caroline Forbes wasn't a bad person, and she most definitely wasn't a spiteful bitch, whatever Hadleigh Davis might say.

She was just so _tired_ of never being enough.

And so she lighted up her candle and burned a leaf of holly on it until it was nothing but dust, and held it tightly in her hand, nails piercing the skin – and the whole time she whispered to herself _please, please, take Elena away from here_.

When she woke up the next morning, there was a diamond bracelet resting on her pillow, and Elena Gilbert had disappeared.

* * *

_there's such a fooled heart, beatin' so fast  
in search of new dreams._

* * *

"Hey, have you heard from Elena?" were Bonnie's first words the next morning in school. She looked worried, telling Caroline that they'd left the house together, getting into their separate cars – but Elena hadn't been in first period, and Bonnie said that no one had seen her in school at all.

"I don't know," Caroline said. "Maybe she felt sick and went at her dad's studio?"

"Maybe." Bonnie frowned. "Do you think I should call Doctor Gilbert?"

But by then Mrs. Hahn had noticed them talking and called them out, and Caroline forgot about her missing friend – until she arrived home that night, after school and cheer practice and study time in the library, only to get a call from Bonnie that no one had seen Elena all day, and her parents were getting worried. And then she entered her room to find the same bracelet from her dream, still on her bed.

And remembered that it had been no dream at all.

"Oh, god," she whimpered, bringing her hands to her mouth. She had done this, calling for a vampire to carry Elena away to the crypts of New Orleans, and – _oh, god_. She was a horrible, horrible person.

The bracelet was still staring at her from its place on her bed, beautiful and shiny and more expensive than anything Caroline has ever owned – hell, it was probably more expensive than her whole wardrobe put together. She wondered what it was for – some sort of compensation? Like the Tooth Fairy, she thought with an hysterical snicker. The Fairy, who took a tooth and leaves money – and here some vampire took her friend and let her jewelry. She touched it, hesitantly at first, then more decisively, passing her fingers or the surface, noticing an engraving on the inside. Caroline frowned, trying to decipher the small letters and the antiquated font. _Fondly, Klaus_, she read.

Who _the hell_ was Klaus?

Her eyes fell on her dresser, on the half-burned black candle left over from the previous night. _Maybe_, Caroline thought, _if I call to him again…_

That night, the moon still high and round in the sky, Caroline Forbes prayed to a monster. "Please," she said, hating how small her voice sounded. "Please, bring Elena back."

"Now, love, why would I want to do that?"

Caroline jumped, letting out a small shriek – but she was too scared to be embarrassed. There, sitting comfortably on the chair next to her window, was a man. There was absolutely nothing remarkable about him – casual clothes, regular features, perfectly human-looking – but that smile, oh, that smile. Cruel and self-satisfied, lips red as blood.

"Are you…" Caroline began, then paused, licking her lips before continuing again. "Are you _him_?"

He threw back his head and laughed, a deep, amused laugh, and Caroline felt embarrassment and anger surge through her veins in equal part. At least, she decided, she wasn't so scared anymore. "That's me sweetheart, yes. Caroline, right?" he asked, sounding like he knew perfectly who she was. "Let me tell you, dear," he added when she didn't answer. "You taste _delicious_."

The way he'd said was almost obscene. Caroline recoiled. "What do you mean?"

"Why, that message you sent me, love. What do you think got me attention – ashes and a black candle?" Those impossible red lips twisted into a smirk. "It was your blood, Caroline. Very sweet, I'll have you know." She remembered then, how she'd pierced her skin with her nails in her impetus. How stupid she'd been.

He kept his eyes on her, still staring, and Caroline found herself staring back, mesmerized. So _this_ was the famed and feared King of the vampires she'd heard so much about, the monster from the stories of her childhood – and he did not look like a monster at all. She stared at him again, more intensely this time, trying to imagine – would she have been able to realize who – _what_ he was, if she'd passed him by chance on the streets?

No, she wouldn't have. No one would have – with those clothes, he looked just like a normal college student, the kind of hipster artsy major Caroline would never be caught dead talking to, just a regular young man if not for those intense, piercing eyes and that wicked smile…

_You can never see him coming_, Sheila Bennett had warned the girls in one of her stories, years and years ago. _Old Nick, the devil_.

Caroline realized she must have said that last part out loud when he laughed again, seeming genuinely amused. "I'm never really been that fond of the name myself, you know?" he said. "Too commonplace." He smirked at her again. "Please sweetheart, do call me Klaus."

_Fondly, Klaus. _She remembered finding the engraving inside the bracelet, wondering who that person was. "Was that bracelet from you then?" she asked. _Fondly_? "What for? Do you think you can buy me off and make me forget about my best friend with something sparkly? Because, let me tell you –"

"It's a gift, love," he cut her off. "A pretty trinket for a pretty woman, nothing more. But this is no gift for an ordinary girl with a soft heart. Do you want it? Then forget about your friend, and live your life."

"So you are trying to buy me off," Caroline said, ignoring all the other things he'd said. The way he spoke made every word sound so – _seductive_. "Look, I get that I asked for it, and maybe you're trying to help me get my wish or whatever, but I was wrong – I want Elena back."

"Trying to help," he repeated her words, looking like she'd just made the funniest joke he'd ever heard. "Caroline, darling, I'm not trying to help you. Do you know how many idiots try to summon me every full moon?"

She had no idea, but he kept talking, answering his own question. "Thousands. Access to old legends is getting ridiculously easy with the modern age, and you wouldn't believe how many people think they can just light a candle and make a wish to kill someone keeping their hands clean." He shook his head in disgust, and Caroline wondered if she should feel insulted. Did he think her an idiot, too? _But he_ did_ come to me, didn't he?_

"And you know how often their prayers get answered, love?"

Caroline rolled her eyes at his wording. _Prayers – _someone had a really high self-esteem. "Never. Maybe once or twice every few years, never more," he continued. "When I am offered something I want, only then, I _take_ it."

He rose from the chair, walking closer and closer, and Caroline had to take a step back to avoid him bumping into her. He smiled at her obvious discomfort. "And I never give it back."

"Wait," Caroline frowned, "what do you want Elena for?"

"Oh, what I want her for doesn't matter, Caroline," he said, taking yet another step. Caroline forced herself to stay still as he advanced, close enough that she could feel his breath on her skin. "What it matters is that I have searched for years for someone like her, and I can be very – grateful," she stood absolutely paralyzed as he leaned in, close enough to kiss. "Very, very grateful," he whispered against her mouth, their breaths mingling together in the air.

"Really, do keep the bracelet, love." He took a step back, grinning, leaving her flushed and confused – and angry. So very angry. "It suits you."

There was a finality in his words and he took yet another step back. _This is when he leaves_, Caroline realized. _Goes back to whatever's from and I'll never see Elena again_. And was it such a bad thing? That had been what she'd asked for, anyway. No more always coming in second…

"Wait!" she called, pleading. She couldn't do it. Caroline Forbes was many things, and petty was one of them – but she wasn't a bad person, no matter how much she tried. "Wait," she repeated. "There has to be something I can do to get her back. Anything."

"What," he asked her, amused. "Is this where you offer yourself in exchange for your friend after you've seen the error of your ways? Because let me tell you, sweetheart, you are truly lovely, but I'm afraid it won't be enough."

"Good thing I have no intention to _offer myself_ then," Caroline said, coolly, surprised at her own nerve. Truth be told, the idea had barely crossed her mind – and dismissed the moment she'd thought of it. This was life, not some sappy tragedy, and as much as Caroline was sorry for what she'd done, she wasn't about to sacrifice her life over it.

He actually looked surprised. "No need to look so disgusted at the thought, darling. I am told it's quite the pleasurable experience."

She felt herself flush at his words. He hadn't been talking about _that_, had he? She felt as though they'd been having two entirely different conversations, and even more glad that she'd refused. "Why, you –" she spat. "You.."

"Call me Klaus," he offered. Vampire king or not, she was getting _pissed_.

_Wait_, she remembered. _Vampire_. "Wait," she asked, "how are you in my house? Don't you have to been invited in?"

"You _did_ invite me in," he pointed out, "with your little magic experiment the other night."

"Oh." Caroline felt relieved. Then it _was_ true that vampire couldn't come in – for a moment, she'd almost doubted it. "Right."

"Such a fascinating girl," he mused, causing Caroline to glare at him. "I'm starting to think that perhaps exchanging you for your doppelganger friend wouldn't be that bad of a trade after all. There's always time to get her later on." He looked genuinely interested, as if she were some sort of challenging puzzle, and Caroline felt herself grow nervous under his eyes –

But there was something else there, too. She felt nowhere as scared as she should be, considering. She felt intrigued instead – and how could she not be? The most dangerous, most powerful being in the world was looking at her like some sort of code he couldn't decipher. She, Caroline Forbes, the girl most people didn't even bother looking twice at – and _he_ was staring at her like an art expert would the Mona Lisa, trying to figure out the secrets behind her puzzling smile.

It made her feel _powerful_; and Caroline would have lied if she said she didn't like it.

"But," the vampire – _Klaus_ – continued, "I'm afraid it cannot be arranged. Priorities, et all." He was shaking his head almost in regret, and Caroline felt her heart sink in her chest. "Such a _shame_."

She heard the dismissal in his voice, the faint hint of regret.

"So that's it?" she found herself saying, not quite in control of her words. "I just – _damned_ my best friend and now it's over, no chance?" It was a rhetorical question more than anything, nothing Caroline expected him to answer. She did not give him the time.

"Oh god I was so stupid," she continued, whispering to herself, finding herself slumped against her bedroom wall, bonelessly. And now she would have to tell Elena's parents, Bonnie, everyone… but she never could, could she? _They'll hate me_. But never as much as she hated herself –

"Caroline," his voice was soft, almost kind. With her eyes closed, she would never have guessed that it was a_ monster_ standing in front of her. "Caroline, sweetheart," he repeated, moving in closer, almost _teasing_ this time. "Let me tell you a little secret."

She kept her eyes firmly closed, hugging her knees to her chest, ignoring the way the air itself seemed to _shift_ as he approached, the way his breath felt against her cheek, warm and gentle and oh-so _bad_.

Caroline shivered.

"It's never really _over_."

And then she felt a whiff of cold wind on her face, and she was alone once again.

Alone with her guilt and her shame and her fear – but the vampire had been right, Caroline decided. It was not over, not by a long shot. She _would_ get Elena back again, no matter what.

* * *

**So, this was going to be a one-shot, then I passed the 10k words mark and it was nowhere close to being finished – I think it's going to be between three and five chapters now. **

**Just for the records, I was terribly nervous about posting this, and I really hope it wasn't a complete mess. Still, I had a ****_blast_**** with this – if you enjoyed the read half as much as I enjoyed writing it, then I'm a happy author. Do leave a ****review**** if you want – I'd love to know your thoughts, and I'll definitely do my best to write in whatever request you might have.**


	2. The Hunter

**Thank you so much for the warm response, folks. You made me a very happy fanfic writer *swoons***

* * *

The Hunter

* * *

_every thrill has gone  
wasn't too much fun at all_

* * *

The days went by, turned into weeks; and Elena did not come back.

Caroline kept her secret, feeling more guilty by the day, dreaming of her friend every night – where she was, what they were _doing_ to her, if she was dead already –

But Elena wasn't dead, that much Caroline was sure about it. The vampire king had seemed too interested in whatever her friend had to offer, too enticed, _delighted_ even. No, Elena wasn't dead, and that was the only thought that kept Caroline going, the words she whispered to herself whenever she glimpsed a face she hated in the mirror, the conviction she held to when she couldn't quite meet Dr. Gilbert's eyes.

Alone in her bed at night, Caroline twisted and turned under the covers and hoped that Elena's fate wasn't worse than death.

She should have told the Gilberts, Caroline knew. Elena's Uncle John was a vampire hunter, and so was Caroline's own father. They could find her maybe, they would know what to do –

But telling would mean face the disappointment of everyone she knew, the _shame_, the refusal, and god, her own mother wouldn't even _look_ at her if she knew, and maybe it was better to wait and swallow the guilt in the darkness, and keep handing out those MISSING flyers she'd come to resent so much.

No, Caroline didn't need Jonathan Gilbert or anyone else. What _could_ they do against the worst vampire of all anyway? She would fix it by herself, get Elena back, and if they'll still hate her after _that_ –

Well, as Scarlett said, _tomorrow is another day,_ after all.

The winter turned into spring and Caroline tried out for the soccer team even if she'd never played soccer a day in her life, because the competitive cheer squad hadn't made the county finals and she had _way_ too much time on her hands, time to think about things she'd rather ignore. She dropped the Prom Committee, because the girls always met on Saturday mornings, and started taking long trips to Richmond and back every week, to take advantage of the best-furnished supernatural library of the state with the added bonus of no noisy Council members sniffing around.

April ended and Matt asked Caroline to prom, despite everything. She said no but went anyway, even if she hadn't bothered to campaign for Prom Queen this year. She hugged Bonnie when she and Matt won, then went home and cried because _Elena should've been there too_, and she'd never hate herself so much.

She graduated top of her class and gave some stupid rehearsed speech, her mind already away from Mystic Falls, feeling the heavy weight of the piece of paper the young professor at Duke had given her when Caroline had gone to visit the campus.

The morning after graduation Caroline Forbes left Mystic Falls for Hayden, Colorado.

* * *

_Gee my life's a funny thing,  
am I still too young?_

* * *

Caroline hadn't told her mother were she was going, of course. She'd drove all the way instead of taking a plane, because she'd never been on a plane before, but she'd seen enough movies to figure out that it was too complicated to bother. After all, she had nothing but time to waste.

To Liz, Caroline said something about summer courses for new freshmen at Duke, and how she really would have to study hard to get out the wait-list limbo in time for the fall semester. Her mother, who still couldn't believe Caroline's sudden decision to major in Paranormal and Supernatural Studies after a lifetime of avoiding anything even remotely related to her parents' jobs, had fallen for the lie immediately, and Caroline hadn't even felt guilty about it. She _was_ going to a summer course of sort, after all, even if she would never make it back in time for the fall semester.

She had applied too late, Professor Monroe had explained, and even her impressive GPA couldn't make up for a missed deadline. But the Paranormal Department at Duke was the best on the East Coast, the best in the whole country even, and terribly exclusive – although they were used to last-minutes applications coming from young students recovering from their first brushes with the supernatural world. _It's more common than you think_, Monroe told her. _My TA this year decided to go into paranormal after some werewolf killed his little sister_. The professor had a soft spot for young wannabe hunters, that much had been clear, and Caroline had secured a spot for the spring semester – and the personal address of one reclusive vampire hunter.

One week later, Caroline found herself knocking to the door of a small one-story house along Highway 40, growing impatient, ignoring the sun beating on her neck. It was mid-morning, but the day was incredibly hot already – a fluke, Caroline hoped. She'd no idea of how weather got in Colorado in June, but she hoped it won't be too warm.

"Mr. Saltzman?" Caroline called, knocking yet once again. There was no doorbell, but there was a car parked on the driveway. "Alaric Saltzman?"

It was another minute before she heard the unmistakable noise of someone moving to answer the door. "Who's that?" she heard a man's voice call from inside.

"My name is Caroline," she said. "Uhm, Vanessa Monroe sent me? From Duke?"

The door opened just enough for Caroline to make up a face – that of a man, looking very much half-asleep. He had light brown hair, but Caroline couldn't guess his age, not when the man's face was distorted in a suffering expression. "Too damn early, girl," the man said, and Caroline felt almost guilty for a moment.

Except that it was eleven-thirty in the morning, and she had just driven six hours straight. "I'm sorry?" she said, half-heartedly. "It's Mr. Saltzman, right?"

He nodded – and, Caroline couldn't help but think, he didn't look like any vampire hunter she'd ever seen. Then again, not counting the men from the Richmond PD her mother sometimes invited to speak at her school, the only vampire hunter she'd met before was her own father, and Caroline supposed that Bill Forbes wasn't the exact stereotype of a hunter either.

"I've never seen you before," Saltzman's voice called her back to reality. "You're new around here, aren't you?"

"I told you," Caroline repeated, wondering what his game was. "Professor Monroe sent me, from Duke. I'm supposed to start her classes next spring and in the meanwhile…"

"Wait, let me guess," Saltzman interrupted. "Late application, sob story?" Caroline had barely time to nod before he continued. "Damn it. I told Vanessa not to send me anymore of you kids."

He looked Caroline up and down, weighing her. "Well, girl.. Caroline, was it? Have a drink."

And he opened the door to reveal a living room, with a TV still turned on and pillows and clothes all over the floor. "A friend of mine crashed here last night," he told Caroline, smiling at her confusion. "I'll go get you something cold, you must be thirsty."

Caroline recognized the challenge for what it was and followed him, uninvited, toward a kitchen that was only slightly less messy.

"Is there going to be vervain in this drink?" she asked, amused. Her parents were usually more subtle about vervained drinks – but then again, Liz Forbes was a simple police officer, not a declared vampire hunter, and even her father who collected bounties on supernatural beings for a while, used an alias for his jobs. Most hunters didn't like to have their identities known and their jobs advertised, not when they had families to protect; but Alaric Saltzman lived alone.

"Vervain," he answered, nodding. "And wolfsbane, among other things."

He handed Caroline a large glass and she took a small sip, experimentally. It was some sort of tea, cold but not icy, and she could taste the blend of hers in it. "That's actually very good," she said, surprised. Next to her, Saltzman laughed.

"Thank you."

He gestured for Caroline to sit in one of the chair by the kitchen table, taking the one next to her.

"Wait," Caroline began. "I get the precautions, believe me, I do. But don't vampires burn in the sun?"

Saltzman gave an amused chuckled. "You've heard of daylight jewelry, haven you?" Caroline nodded – of course she had. She'd also heard that it was incredibly rare, incredibly expensive, and that only the oldest and most powerful vampires had it.

Her thoughts went to Klaus, and to how _of course_ he'd have some – after all, he'd taken Elena on her way to school that day. Caroline frowned, trying to remember if any of his jewelry had stood out. He'd been wearing necklaces, that much she remembered. Maybe if she could figure out which one held the spell that enabled him to walk in the sun…

"Well," Saltzman said. "Let's just say, daylight trinkets are more common than most humans think. If you know where to get them, of course."

"Really?" Caroline asked, not really managing to keep the skepticism out of her voice. "And you do?"

"As a matter of fact," he said. "I do not. But I know someone who does."

"Wonderful," Caroline mumbled under her breath, filing the information under 'more things to worry about'. Some vampires have easy access to daylight jewelry.

"Lapis lazuli," the man added, making her frown. "That's the stone that holds the daylight spell. Semi-precious stone, very blue."

"Oh. Thank you." She paused. "Why are you telling me all this?" He knew literally nothing about her – only that she wasn't a vampire and knew Professor Monroe's name – and already he was sharing his tricks with her.

But Saltzman only smiled. "Caroline Forbes, eighteen years old, from Mystic Falls, Virginia. A friend of yours disappeared and you have reasons to believe a vampire did it, even if there wasn't enough proof for a supernatural investigation. Your mother is a police officer, father is a hunter – and I don't know why you didn't go to him, but maybe I could guess some personal reasons if I wanted to. You just graduated high school, your grades –"

"Stop," Caroline said, harshly. "How do you know all this?"

"How do you think?" he shrugged. "Vanessa called me when she gave you my address, of course, and I had someone – I looked you up. Paranoia is a healthy habit to have in this world, and I wanted to make sure your story checked out."

That made sense, Caroline conceded. "Right."

"But it doesn't seem right that you know so much about me and I don't know anything about you," she added after a while, because it _wasn't_.

"You know that I know someone who can get lapis lazuli," Saltzman said. "And now you know what a lapis lazuli _is_, which most people don't – even hunters. I believe in spreading knowledge," he added, answering Caroline's earlier question. "Is the academic in me, not much for secrets. Do consider this like an internship, Caroline. You help me, you learn."

"And I also don't get paid?" she asked, jokingly, hoping it would deflate the tension in the room – then immediately regretted it. What if he took it the wrong way? There were hunters who would expect payment for teaching a newbie the trick of the trade, and Saltzman was only doing her a favor. What if he got mad and told her to leave, and –

But it worked; Saltzman grinned at her, suddenly looking much younger than he had before. "You are a newly graduate girl looking for job experience," he said. "I get to exploit you and make money out the sweat of your brow. Welcome to the world of higher education."

"Also," he added, holding out one hand. "You can have the guest room. Call me Ric."

* * *

_well, it ain't that Barbie doll_  
_her heart's been broken just like you have_

* * *

Working for a vampire hunter, Caroline realized pretty soon, was at the same time exactly what she'd expected, and the complete opposite. Mr. Saltzman – _Ric_, he always corrected her, telling that she made him feel too old, and she wasn't one of his students anyway – had really an impressive collection of weapons, a garage that looked more like some sort of gym, and all kinds of dusty tomes… and yet he spent most of his time on his laptop, scanning the content of his bookshelves into digital format; and, when Caroline asked, he'd admitted candidly that it had been months since he'd gone on a hunt.

"I only take the local ones," Ric explained, "and the really important hunt, the ones that are countrywide, worth enough to bother. Vampire hunting ain't as glamorous as you might think," he continued, before Caroline could make a dig at his mercenary attitude. "The more you take on, the more likely you are to get killed, and I have too much to do before I die."

Alaric Saltzman believed in knowledge, that much was clear. Professor Monroe had told Caroline they'd met at Duke, back when she'd been the TA to Ric's then-wife , and he had been a History professor, of all things – and not much of a fan of the Supernatural Studies community. _He wouldn't even go near anything more recent than the American Civil War_, Monroe had joked. _You know, back when vampires were still in hiding. He used to say that modern history was too complicated for him_.

What had happened to make the man change his mind Caroline didn't know, but it was clear that much of the academic survived inside the vampire hunter. Ric's greatest passion was ancient lore, and he spent most of his days invested in the creation of a sort of reference archive for all kinds of supernatural phenomena.

"Like a sort of Wikipedia?" Caroline asked when she found out, amused. "Why haven't I heard about this before?" It sounded like a _great_ idea – she genuinely couldn't imagine why anyone hadn't thought of it sooner – but if such a thing _was_ available, her parents would have commented on it.

"Because it's not public yet," Ric said, with a look that it clear he was stating the obvious. "I'm not about to get my name on something that can get me killed by pretty much every vampire in the world until it's complete."

"Oh."

Well, it was more pragmatic than heroic, but that was who Alaric was – a worker like any other, the kind of guy who carefully waited for the right project to make the most money with a minimum effort, and then left the stake at home and went to the local pub for a drink or two. And if Caroline had the suspect that his reasons for picking such a life were more personal than he liked to admit, well, she kept that to herself. In the meanwhile, though, she was learning some cool tricks.

"So, cheerleader," Ric began one morning, showing Caroline the inside of his garage-turned-gym. _That's why he always leaves the car on the driveway_, she realized, giggling to herself. "That means you're used to hard work and strained muscles, right?"

"Absolutely," Caroline nodded at him with a grin, glad that she didn't have to give him the standard 'Cheerleading Is So Totally A _Real_ Sport' speech. "_Competitive_ cheerleading, thank you very much. We work even more than the jocks on the basketball team, and don't even make me get started on the swimming team –"

"I know," Ric interrupted her, a sort of wistful smile on his face. "My wife used to say the same thing when we met, you know. She was on the college team."

Caroline didn't quite know what to say at that, and Ric seemed to notice – he cleared his throat, maybe a bit too loud. "Right," he said. "Okay, if you're ever in a one-to-one with a vampire, your only chance to make it is your technique. Vampires are so used to their strength that they almost never bother _learning_ how to fight. All you need is a few good hits, the dirtier the better. Now, I'm clearly no black belt and I've still survived until now, so believe me, I'm telling the truth…"

Ric was right; he was obviously not much of a fighter. He loved his books and booze too much, he told Caroline with a grin, but he still shared every sort of pointers. From training to run distance – _vampires are incredibly fast, your best shot if you get one down is to_ run like hell _someplace crowded_, – to sensible advice – _wash your clothes with vervain, you won't believe how much it hurts_, – to some of the dirties tricks Caroline had ever heard – _bite them,_ hard;_ vampire blood heals whatever wound you'll get_.

Still, Caroline wasn't satisfied with theoretical knowledge, and so she started driving down to the nearest city four times a week, to a Krav Maga gym she'd found online. Ric would snicker at her whenever she left, saying something about putting too much effort into an useless thing, and how she was more likely to break a hand punching a vampire than to actually hurt them.

_Whatever_. "It's not just punching, Ric." And maybe she owed to her perfectionist self – and to Elena – to at least _try_ to do her best.

The days turned into weeks and summer was in full bloom. Caroline called her mother thrice a week with made up stories of how much she was loving North Carolina, of the new annoying roommate, of the new shoes she'd bought; and then ended the call and went back to practicing with one of the crossbow, and maybe try a new protection spell from one of Ric's dusty old grimoires.

Exactly one month into Caroline's new life, she figured it was about time to start looking into what she _really_ wanted to know – everything about the Vampire Court of New Orleans, how to get in the city and survive. And, more importantly, how to get _out_.

There was nothing in any of Ric's books, which she thought was suspect – after all, even her history textbook from high school had half a chapter about vampire society; there was no way someone like Alaric wouldn't have at least a whole shelf dedicated to the topic, and yet…

_Tomorrow_, Caroline told herself on the thirty-second day. _I'll ask him tomorrow_. Not that she wanted Ric – or anyone, ever, to find out about what she'd done, but if that would help Elena…

Tomorrow, she decided; and when tomorrow came, Ric had to leave.

"Call just came through," he explained. It was five in the morning, way too early even for Caroline to be awake. "They say it's a werewolf in Oregon, it killed more than ten people."

Caroline followed him around, rubbing her eyes. Alaric walked into the kitchen, taking an empty Coca Cola plastic bottle from somewhere and pouring some of the tea into it – the one made with vervain, and wolfsbane.

Wolfsbane. _Werewolf_.

"Wait," Caroline found herself asking. "Isn't a full moon next week?" Most werewolf reports only came in the few days _after_ a full moon, not before.

Ric nodded at her. "Yes, but they only ID'd him now. Not that I'm complaining," he smiled a sort of grin. "The bounty for this one is really high."

"You're not coming," he added suddenly, and Caroline closed her mouth – she had been about to ask him just that. "When I get some smooth local one, sure. But you're too inexperienced to get into the serious jobs so soon."

Caroline nodded, surprisingly fine with it. Had it only been six months ago, she would have been furious, determined to prove her worth at all costs. Now, though, she knew better. Vampires were immortal, after all, and one couldn't expect to beat them without some serious training and patience. Caroline had made her peace with it when she'd decided to forego her dreams of her carefully planned life at UVA and her double drama-and-French major for an education in how to fight monsters; she was in this for the long haul.

"When are you going to be back?" It never crossed her mind that he wouldn't. If anything, Alaric was careful, and if what he said about it being a big job was true then there was the chance that he wouldn't even make it on time to Oregon.

"I don't know," he said. "A week, tops. I'll call you."

And he was out of the house in five minutes, after some half-assed speech about not opening the door to strangers which had Caroline rolling her eyes and whispering _yes, mom_ under her breath.

She went about her day as usual, hitting the stupid dummy in the garage, rereading the same book for the third time looking for information that _clearly_ wasn't there, and sipping the leftover vervain tea while debating whether to order a pizza for dinner. _Then_ she went back to the grimoire, a messy binder she'd put together using photocopies from her mother's family one and whatever interesting-looking spell she'd gotten her hands on in the last few months.

And it didn't seem to work.

Caroline sighed, wishing again for the thousandth time that she were a witch – Bonnie made every spell look so effortlessly, even the really difficult ones, and Caroline Forbes, Miss Mystic Falls and valedictorian, couldn't manage a simple barrier. _Damn_.

She was distracted from her increasingly growing frustration by the sound of someone knocking on the door – Alaric _still_ hadn't fixed that stupid doorbell – barely bothering to tie her hair up in a messy bum before running to the door. _Finally_.

"Hey," Caroline began, opening the door. "That was –"

Standing right in front of her was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen.

" – fast," she managed to spit out, before taking notice of the man in front of her – really taking notice, that was it, looking past his gorgeous face and intense blue eyes and _obviously_ muscular body.

"You are _not_ the pizza guy."

"_Nope_," the man said, popping the _p_. "And _you_, Blondie, are definitely not Ric."

He was checking her out, Caroline noticed, and not even bothering to be subtle about it – but then again, she probably must have done the same to him. _Damn_ the man was hot-

She crossed her arms on her chest, trying to not look like he was affecting her at all. And probably failing – but, hey, a girl had to try. "I'm Caroline," she said, "Ric's not here now."

"Yes, I _know_," the man said, rolling his eyes. "I figured he would, only I hoped to get here sooner. I'm Damon, by the way," he added, giving her a smirk that – _Caroline, calm down_.

And he strolled past behind her, like he owned the place.

"Excuse me –" she began, because _okay_, he clearly knew Alaric, and had clearly already been in the house, but she lived there too, and it would have been only _polite_ to at least _ask_…

"Now, this looks so much better than the last time I was here," the man – Damon – observed, _strolling_ through the living room. Literally strolling; she couldn't think of another word. His air of arrogance reminded Caroline of Tyler Lockwood back home – but this Damon could definitely afford it. "Your work, I assume?"

Caroline found herself rolling her eyes. "Well, _duh_."

"Right," Damon turned to look at her, still giving her _that_ smile. "I also assume you took the guest room, so I'll take Ric's." He paused, practically _leering_. "Unless you want to share?"

_What the hell_…

"Yeah, that's not happening, buddy."

"Pity." He shrugged, looking at her with just the barest hint of regret, still looking around the room. He went to the table where Caroline had been practicing, glancing at the open books with a bored face, playing with her glass. "So, did you said you ordered a pizza, because –"

And then he took a sip from the still half-full glass, and promptly chocked.

"What _the fuck_ –" he began, coughing. "Seriously, Blondie? Vervain? I thought it would be bourbon."

Caroline could only stare, looking at Damon with renewed fear. The man standing in front of her, talking about bourbon and Ric and guest rooms, and obviously very much invited-in, was a vampire.

And he was grinning at her.

"You looking a little pale there, Blondie. I'm guessing you didn't know about Ric's dirty little secret, didn't you?"

Caroline took a breath and did her best not to freak out. The vampire – Damon, and clearly some sort of… friend of Ric, despite everything – he clearly wasn't there to attack her. Or anyone at all, really, he looked pretty friendly. _And hot_, Caroline told herself. _He's pretty to look at, isn't it? Do you remember, like, five minutes ago, when you thought he was the best-looking guy on Earth? Go back to that_. He obviously wasn't dangerous, she repeated in her mind again and again, until it seemed to work.

"Yeah, well," she managed to say. "I guess I didn't."

"And you aren't screaming even," Damon said, sounding impressed. "I think I like you."

He sat down at the table, grinning. "Do sit down, Blondie –"

"Caroline," she corrected him, because vampire and total hottie, fine, but the man was_ annoying_. "I _do_ have a name, you know."

"– Blondie," he continued, like she hadn't spoken at all, the _asshole_. "I promise I won't bite," he paused, and _she knew_ what he was going to say before he did, and just, _no_.

"Please don't say it," Caroline cut in, groaning. "It would be seriously lame."

Damon laughed. "Point. So, are you going to sit down? I'm going to tell you a story…"

* * *

**Yeah, not much of a shocker. But it definitely is one for Caroline, and I was asked to introduce more canon TVD characters – so here they are. Belated apologizes for the lack of Klaus in this chapter but, just so you know, I'm considering doing next chapter from Klaus's POV, if I can make it work *crosses fingers* so if there's anything /anyone you'd like to see in it let me know.  
BTW, if you are on tumblr, look me up ****justoldlights**** – I need more Klaroline on my dash, let's all follow each other!**


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